


Bubble Baths Are Genderless

by acareeroutofrobbingbanks



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Fluff, M/M, bubble baths, domestic AU, peterick-established relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-02
Updated: 2016-02-02
Packaged: 2018-05-17 19:52:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5883484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acareeroutofrobbingbanks/pseuds/acareeroutofrobbingbanks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pete likes a lot of girly stuff. He likes eyeliner and selfies and small dogs and the color pink. But more than all of that, he likes bubble baths. And even more than that, he likes Patrick Stump.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bubble Baths Are Genderless

Pete doesn’t have an issue liking girly stuff. Even with Andy’s ceaseless tirade of “gender is a social construct and we are slaves to it as much as we are to capitalism,” Pete’s always been more into girly stuff. Honestly, he assumed that all guys were just as into reality TV and scented lotion and flowers, but were just too afraid to say anything. But hey, Pete was an international sex symbol. As far as he was concerned, he could do whatever the hell he wanted, be it wear glittery eye makeup or dress his dog up or read Sylvia Plath. 

Yeah, no one was really surprised when Pete came out. Frankly, no one was surprised when he announced that he was in a relationship with Patrick either. The world had seen Pete was in love with Patrick before Pete had.

But the one thing Pete was self conscious about loving was bubble baths. He couldn’t pinpoint why it made him self conscious, but he hoarded bottles of bubbles from every boutique he could worm his way into on tour, and then hid them in the bottom of bags of laundry like the pretty colored bottles were filled with cocaine rather than floral scented liquid.

Pete’s secret bubble bath addiction was something he knew he had to address before Patrick moved in with him. It would be difficult to explain why he was hiding in the bathroom for an hour when he had an all too willing boyfriend in the bedroom, and yet somehow Pete would have been less ashamed of admitted he had a masturbation problem than just telling someone about the bubble bath thing.

Perhaps it was the way Pete took bubble baths: filling the tub with water so hot it scorched his skin when he got in and pouring in three times the recommended amount of bubble bath so that when he got in the bubbles slid over the edge of the tub and covered the floor in soap scum. The way he would, if left uninterrupted, sit in the bathtub for hours, just playing with the bubbles like a little kid. Sex was definitely less embarrassing than owning a rubber duck.

As it turned out, Pete never had to tell Patrick why he absolutely insisted on them getting a deep, claw foot tub when they moved into a place of their own, entirely due to Pete’s own negligence. 

Somehow, Pete managed to forget that Patrick had a key to his current place, and that he really ought to lock the door to his bathroom if someone could hypothetically get into his apartment without permission. And that he shouldn’t listen to audiobooks with the headphones in while he was, you know, in the bath.

With his eyes closed and the last Harry Potter book being broadcast directly into his ears, Pete couldn’t tell anything was up until he felt a sudden blast of cold air chilling his damn arm that was hanging out over the side of the bath. Pete jumped, sloshing water everywhere and looking up in panic, half expecting to see an axe murderer.

No such murderer was there. Simply Patrick, smirking in the bathroom doorway for a moment before he started peeling off articles of clothing. Pete, belatedly, yanked the headphones out of his ears.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Pete asked, his voice coming out calmer than he felt, his heart still thrumming rather than beating in his chest. 

“And here I thought you’d never complain about me getting naked,” Patrick said, kicking the door shut with one bare foot, and slowly lowering himself into the bathtub. It was far too full for two people, but Patrick either didn’t notice or didn’t care as the water lapped over the side, soaking the floor. Pete noticed, but didn’t care.

“Sexy bubble beard,” Patrick said. And when Pete kissed him, he covered Patrick’s mouth in strawberry-melon bubbles that clung to the stubble on his face.

“Any reason I wasn’t invited?” Patrick asked after a few minutes of kissing. Pete, for his part, wasn’t sure he could speak when he was this lost in the ecstasy of hot water+bubbles+Patrick, but he found his voice eventually.

“I didn’t know you liked baths,” Pete said, trying to pull Patrick closer and whining in disappointment when his slippery finger slid off of Patrick’s slick skin.

“Love them,” Patrick said, lunging on top of Pete and ignoring the sound of crashing waves as they continued to flood Pete’s bathroom.

“We need- ah! we need a clawfoot tub at the new house!” Pete gasped breathlessly between kisses, above and below the water.

“We could do that, yeah,” Patrick said, pulling back, and giving Pete an appraising look. “I mean, or.”

“Or?” Pete’s eyebrows were knit in confusion.

“Well, I mean, we are rockstars. We could have, like, a super-bath built for us. If you do this often.”

Pete hoped Patrick’s noises were happy noises and not drowning noises. They sounded like happy noises. 

“Let’s get a super-bath!” Pete half squealed.

“Ow, Christ, um, sweetie, your elbow is in my kidney!”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“I mean, partially because I love you, and partially because this bath is really small for one person.”

“No more one person baths?”

“Not on my watch.”

Pete loved bubble baths. And he decided that he loved them at least 1000% more when he was sharing them with Patrick Stump.

**Author's Note:**

> So hey Elizabeth why'd you write a bubble bath fanfiction at three in the morning when you have class in the morning? Good question: you see-


End file.
